The Stars And Sea
by Lord Kristine
Summary: In an ancient world populated by monsters and hybrids, Claire is about to be sent on the adventure of a lifetime . . .


Claire was in quite a bit of trouble. This type of quandary wasn't new to her, but never had she faced such severe consequences for her actions. She had been caught stealing bread from a small village not too far from Crete, and being the lucky girl she was, she just happened to get caught on the worst day of the year. She was familiar with the barbaric tradition enforced by the King who ruled the island, and was equally aware of the many-times-confirmed impossibility of surviving said ritual, but she never once imagined that she'd be one of the sacrificed individuals.

It was a well-known fact that Crete had a crime rate much lower than any other district, and this was because the punishment for severe infractions was so horrid that it was feared more than the usual chopping off of hands or hanging. While Claire's crime was borderline insignificant, it had been a slow year for justice, and thus she had to replace the usual victims of the King's game.

It was said that a monster had been trapped inside a great maze near the King's palace: a labyrinth both vast and impossible to navigate, and the proof of this claim was that no man nor woman had returned to the outside world after being forced into the masterfully-designed warren. Prisoners were fooled into believing that they stood a chance of making it to the center of the maze to retrieve a golden crown, which when brought to the King would absolve them of all crimes and allow them to enjoy a tantalizing monetary compensation. In reality, this incentive served to draw them into the heart of the maze, so that they would either get lost or be devoured by the monster, which (according to the boastful King) was delighted by the taste of human flesh. Claire wasn't sure that she was in danger of being eaten by said monster, for in a maze so immense, she would likely starve to death long before the beast could track her down.

That, and one other reason.

Anyway, she was about to be dumped into a series of twists and turns that would almost certainly be her place of death, and the stuck-up nobles were just sitting there, eating fancy fruit at a marble table near the entrance, where Claire now stood with legs like jelly. She looked up at the stone gateway and gulped, then shuffled around to face them awkwardly.

"Could I at least have a map or something? . . ."

The King stared her down, unimpressed.

"That kind of defeats the purpose of a maze."

Claire rubbed her arm uncertainly.

"Yeah, well . . . it's not really fair, is it? No one's ever solved the puzzle on their own, so it would be nice to have a clue-"

Two guards advanced, lowering their spears. She raised her arms and gulped.

"Just making an observation . . ."

The King rolled his eyes.

"Look, why don't you get started while it's still light out?"

"Does the monster sleep during the day?"

He snorted and swallowed a chunk of pear.

"How should I know?"

"Isn't he your son?"

With this, the King dropped the black olives he had been sucking on. Slowly, he stood up and stepped over the table, marching up to Claire in complete silence. When he was about two feet away from her, he leaned forward and whispered venomously.

"That _thing_ is not my son. My wife was sent into a trance during which she mated with a monster. I bore her shame nobly, as any good husband would. I am a saint."

He poked her chest.

"Now, go in there and find the crown. I've given you more than enough time to fool around. One more snide word out of you, and I'll see to it that you're tied up and left at the mercy of the beast inside."

Claire gulped, then backed into the maze. She'd rather have a slim chance than no chance at all.

When she rounded the first corner and lost sight of the King, she dropped her sheepish smile and began her journey under a hot, summer sun. Moving through the maze, she took note of each change in direction, repeating the pattern under her breath so that the monster wouldn't hear her. After ten additions to the list, she made the directions into a song, so that they would be easy to remember.

"Left, right, left, right, left, left, right, left, right . . ."

Uh oh.

"Um . . . Left? . . ."

If she forgot even one direction, she'd ruin the whole sequence. That, and she'd have to think backwards on the way out . . . if that ever came up . . .

"Right, left . . . Right . . . Left . . . _Shit!_ "

Claire grabbed her hair in frustration. She may as well give up on doing this methodically. The maze looked pretty much the same all over, except the deeper parts, where vines too weak to support her weight grew in dark patches. She really should have kept track of her approximate location instead of memorizing each turn. It would help to know in which direction the exit was pointed, at the very least.

"North? North. South? South . . . West, East, West, East . . . I'm fucked."

She stamped her foot and growled in frustration, only to hear another growl not too far away. Despite the heat, her hair stood on end. She turned around, knees knocking. Behind her was an empty passageway.

No monster.

He was on the other side of the wall.

Claire had no way of knowing how long it would take the creature to find her, since the paths of maze were so erratic that the animal could be on a completely different route and still seem near. He might be trapped in his own blind alley, for all she knew. Still, it couldn't hurt to keep quiet.

 _Swish_.

Claire's heart skipped a beat. That sounded closer than before.

 _Swish, swish._

She gulped and looked to each side. She was standing in a long corridor with only two possible exits. Should she wait for the monster to appear at either end so she could run in the opposite direction? How fast was the beast? If it got on her trail, could she fool it into taking a different lane? She backed up against a wall, knees knocking.

 _SNORF!_

Claire screamed and bolted away from the noise.

"MONSTEEEEEEEEER!"

She heard a terrible low, like a cow being lifted by its leg. It was unclear where the moo was coming from, but Claire was pretty sure that she was moving away from it. She ran with her arms extended in front of her, screaming helplessly.

Then, a miracle! Claire noticed something gleaming in a patch of vines and pulled a knife from the knotted plant. If she couldn't outrun the monster, she could at least try to kill it.

A shadow crossed the bend behind her. Noting its intended path, she pursued it with her fist clenched tightly around the weapon. She heard the same noise from before- that wretched, animalistic scream- and knew that she was about to face a terrible beast which could probably swallow her in one gulp. She took a deep breath and held out the knife, clenching her teeth with fierce determination.

When she rounded the corner, however, she realized that the so-called monster was trying to flee _her_. The creature scrambled up against the wall of a dead end, whimpering pathetically. Claire quirked a brow, utterly baffled.

It was a funny animal. The thing had a scaly body and a greasy mane that ran from its head down to the base of its spine, where the mop grew thinner (though it was still quite curly). Behind it, a tail like that of a lion whipped back and forth rapidly. The hair at the end of the tail was in worse shape than the mane, though it was hard to tell just how matted it was while it swished to and fro. The animal was pounding on the wall with feet like a hippo, long ears turned backwards in fear. When it caught a glimpse of Claire over its shoulder, it paused, let its front half drop to the ground, then turned around slowly and let out a sigh of relief.

"Oh, thank the gods! You scared me half to death! I was afraid you were the monster."

She frowned and lowered her knife.

"Monster? Aren't _you_ the monster?"

After a beat, he burst out laughing.

"Gods, no! I'm not terrifying in the _slightest_! I couldn't devour a person even if I was a carnivore, and especially not in this sorry state!"

It was true, he seemed quite emaciated, not at all capable of overpowering a human being. To make matters worse, he had dark bags under his eyes and scrapes all over his belly. All in all, it seemed like he had gone through hell. Claire slid the knife into a loop in her belt and knelt in front of him so that their eyes could meet on the same level.

"Are you alright?"

"Am now, as long as the monster isn't nearby."

"I don't think it is. Was that you screaming earlier?"

He folded his ears.

"I wasn't scared, honest! . . . And weren't _you_ screaming too?"

She rolled her eyes and stood up.

"What do they call you?"

He cocked his head and sat on his rump heavily.

"Call me?" he echoed.

"What's your name?" she clarified.

He shrugged.

"Oh, I don't have one. None that I can remember, anyway. I've been stuck in this maze for years, you see, so I've forgotten most of what happened when I was an infant."

She bit her lip.

"Poor thing. Is there something you'd like me to _call_ you, at least?"

He frowned in concentration.

"That's a tough one. No one's ever asked me _that_ before. You know, I'm not sure I can think of any names. The ones I know are already taken by other people. Their parents gave them names, but I don't have any parents. None that I can remember, at least. As far as the world is concerned, I'm no one."

"No one . . . What if I call you Owen?"

He blinked, then nodded.

"Sounds fine. What's _your_ name?"

"Claire."

"That's much prettier."

"Would you like me to call you Claire as well?"

He stood up, tail swishing back and forth once more.

"No, that would be confusing, and I'm not sure I deserve it. In any case, I don't see why it matters what we call each other, as long as we stay alive."

Claire peeked over her shoulder.

"Is the monster on its way, do you think?"

He pricked an ear, but shook his head after a pause.

"Hard to say. The walls make it difficult to tell exactly where the monster is, or how close you are to being trapped. I got lucky, but my friends . . ."

He bit his beak, throat wobbling. Claire gulped and touched his snout.

"I'm sorry. I can't imagine what you've been through. Did the monster . . . Did the monster get _everyone_?"

He nodded, shaking like a leaf.

"The worst part is that I never _see_ it happen. I think the monster is leaving bodies behind to hint that it's still after me. One of these days, I'm going to grow too weak to run from it."

Claire circled him, running her hand down his ribcage, which seemed to be pushing against his scales.

"How have you survived this long?"

"I drink rainwater and lick the walls for salt. When I'm desperate, I eat dirt."

She twisted her mouth.

"You know, I've seen plants growing every few miles-"

His eyes went wide.

"I can't eat _those_!"

"Why not?"

He swayed in a nauseated manner.

"They . . . They sprout from dead bodies. I can't eat them or I'd be eating . . ."

He looked ready to faint or throw up . . . or both. Claire stroked his mane, hoping it would comfort him.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know."

He folded his ears backwards, shoulders hunched with shame.

"Neither did I, at first. But then I realized, and I . . ."

He gagged. Claire held him by the horns to keep him steady. They were like vertical handlebars, and he wasn't heavy enough to weigh her down, luckily.

"It's okay. Don't think about it," she instructed, "Listen, you and I are going to get out of here, understand?"

Something dubious flickered across his face. Claire batted her eyes innocently.

"What? . . ."

He pawed the ground gently, kicking up dust.

"Nothing, nothing . . . It's just . . . That's what they _all_ said."

"Who?"

"My friends. They make all these promises, but when they realize it's hopeless, they get frustrated with me and give up. I've been navigating this maze for my entire life, but they seem to be convinced that I don't know anything about it. Maybe they're right. I still haven't managed to find a way out. Point is, they get mad and leave me, and I never see them again. Not alive, anyway. I was hoping you'd be different."

She scratched behind his ear.

"I _will_ be. I'm still going to try to find a way out of here, but I promise I won't leave you. I can't think of anything worse than being alone in this place."

"Me neither."

She gave him a sympathetic look before standing up straight and putting her hands on her hips with determination.

"Well, let's not waste another second. We're going to have to keep our wits about us if we want to stay alive. Are you fit to walk?"

He nodded.

"I just spent a few hours licking a wall, so I should be fine."

She clicked her tongue.

"That's no meal. You need _real_ food. I think I have something in my bag . . ."

She fumbled through her satchel, and when she couldn't find what she was looking for, she dumped the contents on the ground. When a tube of lipstick rolled over and hit Owen's foot, his face lit up.

"Is that makeup?"

"Yeah, why? You looking to be fancy?"

After a bit of fumbling, she froze.

"You're not . . . going to _eat_ it, are you?"

He shook his head and stuck out his tongue.

"Ew! Gross! No, Claire, we can use this to help us escape. If we mark the walls . . ."

When she understood his meaning, Claire grinned and snapped her fingers. She began to gather her discarded belongings, smiling from ear to ear.

"That's brilliant, Owen! You're a genius!"

He batted his eyes.

"Really? . . ."

"Of course. You just saved us a load of time."

He nodded rapidly.

"Speaking of saving, why don't you make dotted lines so we have double the lipstick?"

Claire smiled and ruffled his mane.

"You just keep coming up with brilliant plans, don't you?"

He crossed his feet humbly, blushing.

"Aw, well I don't know about _that_."

She stroked his hair again, since he seemed to like that.

"Don't sell yourself short. You're-"

She paused. Something hard and bumpy was nestled in his fur. After a bit of tugging, she pulled out a golden crown. Owen shrunk into a ball.

"I . . . I, uh . . . I was gonna tell you about that. I just wanted to make sure . . . make sure that you wouldn't leave me."

Claire frowned.

" _Leave_ you? . . ."

He gulped.

"If you took the crown and went in a different direction, you might die, and I wouldn't be able to leave, even if I found the exit. I was gonna tell you, I swear-"

She knelt down once more and scratched behind his front horn.

"Owen, I'm not mad at you. But you should know that I'm never, _ever_ going to leave you."

"Are you sure?"

She smiled.

"I'm positive. Here."

She nestled the crown in his mane.

"If we get separated, I want _you_ to have it. That way, you know I'll come looking for you before leaving."

He gave a wide smile, but when she tickled his nostril, he pulled his head back and sneezed dramatically.

"SNORF!"

Claire jumped, then chuckled quietly.

"Well, I won't have any trouble _hearing_ you, that's for sure!"

***TSAS***

They soon began their journey, marking the wall with a dotted line, just as Owen suggested. Claire tried to make it somewhat even at first, but she decided that the artistry of her directions didn't matter all that much. It wasn't like anyone was going to _see_ it. Well, no one who _cared_ , anyway. She didn't suppose the monster would think to follow the markings, and something told her that Owen had greater concerns than sloppy lines. Then again, he seemed to have become accustomed to life in the labyrinth, so it was hard to say what his priorities actually _were_. If he had survived for this long, he probably didn't feel the need to rush his escape . . . unless the monster found him. No, he _wasn't_ comfortable living this way. Even if it had been _years_ since he'd known anything else, this was no cakewalk for him. And Claire could certainly see this in his figure.

It was hard to tell what Owen was _supposed_ to look like- Claire had never encountered a creature such as himself- but she was almost positive that he was sick and malnourished, not to mention far from well-rested. She took note of how he jumped at every little noise, and wondered how long it had been since he'd slept for more than an hour. Every time he closed his eyes, he put himself at risk of being devoured, after all. She doubted sleep was his top priority.

"Do you need to rest?" Claire asked.

Owen shook his head tersely.

"No. I can keep going."

"Are you sure? You look tired."

"I'll move faster."

As he began a quick-walk, Claire reached out and held him back by the tail.

"Whoah, whoah, whoah. Don't push yourself. I'm not trying to get you to move faster. I just thought you might need a nap."

Owen's beak quivered. Gradually, tears began to slip down his cheeks. Claire knelt in front of him, but this time, when she reached out, he backed away. She lowered her hand.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you."

He sniffed.

"It's- It's not your fault."

He plucked the crown from his mane and dropped it in her lap, licking his beak sadly.

"Here. Take the crown and find the exit."

Claire's jaw dropped.

"Owen! . . ."

"No, it's okay. I understand. If you want to leave me, you can go now. You don't have to wait until I'm asleep."

"Owen, I was gonna keep watch . . ."

"And then take the crown and sneak away?"

"No!"

"That's what the _last_ guy did."

After a long silence, Claire placed the crown on one of his horns.

"Owen, I'm not going to leave you. You're my friend. I'm sorry you had to experience being left behind, and I promise I won't put you through that again. Truth be told, I'd be terrified if I had to navigate this maze alone. You're the only thing keeping me focused right now."

He batted his eyes.

"Really? You mean it?"

"Of course."

He smiled and scooped her up in a hug. She gasped, though his grip had little force.

"No one's ever wanted me around before!" he gushed.

Claire smiled and patted his back delicately.

"I can't see why not. You're probably the kindest person I've ever met!"

"Aw, you mean it?"

"Absolutely," she beamed, "Of course, people aren't generally nice to me-"

He held her against his chest and rocked back and forth blissfully.

"Well, I promise I'll be nice to you forever and ever. I'll be nicer than anyone's _ever_ been in the history of being nice! The nicest deeds will seem cruel compared to how nice I'm going to be. How does that sound?"

"It sounds . . . nice? . . ."

He giggled in a deep moo, ears flapping merrily.

"It feels so good to have a friend again! No one's ever offered to stay with me when I slow them down. And no one's let me touch them, either."

Claire quirked a brow.

"Why not?"

He shrugged.

"They all gave different reasons. Some people said I smelled bad, and one girl told me I was too clingy. She died pretty fast. Tamara-Lyncus, I think her name was. She was the one who told me I was ugly."

Claire glanced at his peeling, red scales.

"You're not ugly. Just a little sickly, I think, but that's not your fault. I'm sure once we get you fed and watered, you'll look just like . . . whatever species you are."

"Human."

Claire's mouth opened and closed a few times before she could think of a suitable response.

"I don't think you're _human_ , Owen . . ."

He hummed.

"That's what they _all_ say, but what else _could_ I be? I think and feel just like everyone else who's dropped in this maze. I have eyes, a tongue, a heart, a face-"

"How do you know you have a heart?"

"Same way you do. I can feel it."

He pressed her hand against his chest. Sure enough, there was something thumping inside.

"I know I don't _look_ like most humans, but we _all_ look a little different, right? I'm pretty sure I just have unusual features."

Claire bit her lip.

"Owen, there's unusual features, then there's having a _tail_ . . ."

His face fell. He began to scuff the ground with his front foot, refusing to meet her gaze.

"I'm not sure what animal I _am_ if I'm not human. The people who come here tell me stories about harpies and sphinxes and mermaids, and I don't look like _any_ of them. I don't have wings, I don't have pointy teeth, and I don't have a fishy tail. But I have hair, a belly, a p- Well, I have a lot of things _humans_ have. You get my point. I'm not like anything I've heard about except humans, so why _can't_ I be one?"

Claire smiled reassuringly and touched his shoulder.

"You know what? You're probably right. I've never seen anything like you before, so you might be some undiscovered subspecies of human. You may even be more advanced, considering how nice you are."

He beamed, tail wagging.

"Well, you're plenty nice, too. Maybe we can both be advanced humans together."

"Uh . . ."

"Too much? Well, I'm not saying we're _better_ than anyone, but it doesn't hurt to be nice. Not usually, anyway. Even if people don't understand us, we have each other, so things will be okay as long as nothing comes between us, right?"

"Right."

"Right! Let's keep moving. I have a feeling we're getting close."

Indeed, they could hear idle chatter being carried on the wind. When it grew louder, they rounded a curve and spied a golden arch looming over the entranceway. As it became clear that they were on the right track, they started running with joyful leaps. They finally reached the last corridor, crown in hand (mane, rather) and stepped outside together.

When they emerged from the maze, the nobles were still dining at the marble table. At the sight of the two victors, they froze, some dropping their cake, and stared in silence. Claire pulled the golden crown from Owen's mane and threw it at the King's feet.

"We have conquered the maze!"

He stood up suddenly, pointing at the two of them with horror.

"The monster has escaped!"

Both Owen and Claire looked behind them, fearing the monster had followed them out, but seeing nothing, turned instead to each other. Owen's jaw dropped.

"Claire . . . _You're_ the monster?!"

She frowned gently, then followed the King's gaze.

"I . . . I think he's talking about _you_."

Owen snorted.

"That's ridiculous. How can I be a _monster_ when I'm a scrawny little herbivore?"

The Queen, who was seated next to her husband, burst into tears and ran into the castle. The King marched forward, wagging a finger at Owen.

"Now, listen here, vile beast. You turn that scraggy rump around and go back to where you came from!"

Owen's jaw dropped.

"But I just got out!"

He shrunk as the King balled his hands into fists. Claire stepped in front of him, spreading her arms defensively.

"Your majesty, this is no monster! He helped me navigate the maze. He's been living inside his entire life-"

"And it should have _stayed_ that way!" the King barked, "When my unfaithful wife lay with an animal, I sent her disgusting half-breed child to live in the maze and feed off human flesh, which I generously offered in abundance. You're lucky I didn't slaughter you straight out of the womb! If you had been birthed by anyone else, I would have put you to death immediately!"

Owen's beak quivered.

"But I . . . I thought . . ."

The King stamped his foot, making Owen shrink into a clump of trembling scales.

"If you have ANY respect for this family's good name, you'll go back where you belong! Nobody wants a disgusting, crossbred animal living among us!"

Suddenly, Claire smacked him across the face. He fell backwards with a bleeding lip. The nobles gasped, dropping their fine cutlery. The Queen peeked out from the castle's entrance, then made her way back to the table cautiously.

"How _dare_ you?!" Claire snapped, "We played your convoluted game, won, and now you have the _balls_ to tell us to go _back_? Listen, king-boy, we played by your rules, and you're bound by law to reward us."

The King stared at Owen, who was too afraid to meet his gaze. He let out a deep sigh, kneading his forehead.

"You may go free, young lady, but this creature can't be allowed to run amok. Do you know how much damage he could cause?"

Claire knelt beside Owen, hugging his neck tenderly.

"He's no threat to you. He's the kindest, gentlest soul I've ever met, and you should be ashamed of yourself for being so cruel to him. What has he ever done to _you_?"

"He tore my family apart! He's a hideous hybrid!"

Owen winced at these words, but Claire stroked his mane soothingly and began to think. After a moment of reflection, she stood up and crossed her arms.

"Is there a way to make him human?"

The King narrowed his eyes.

"Make him human? . . ."

"Yes. I've seen hybrid creatures take on a human form. Is there a way to change Owen?"

The King's eyes darted back and forth, but then he took a deep breath, folding his hands methodically.

"There _is_ a way, but it's dangerous. You must travel across a deadly sea to face a terrifying monster who will devour you if you do not answer her riddle correctly. She guards a magic gem that will change any creature into a human. No one has made the journey successfully."

Claire frowned.

"Alright. We'll go. Give us lodging for the night, and once we're ready, kindly provide us with your finest ship. We will return as two humans, and your stepson will take his place as Prince of this land."

The King seemed unhappy with the arrangement, but his indignant frown became a cunning sneer after a moment of reflection.

"Very well. But know this: if you come back empty-handed, I'll put you both to death."

Claire nodded.

"Fine. Let's go, Owen. We should eat."

He trotted after her, jaw hanging, and found that he admired her a great deal more after her display of confidence, though he wouldn't have thought it possible an hour prior.

On their way to the castle, they passed each noble at the table. When they came to Owen's mother, she reached out gently and touched her son's front leg. He froze in place. Without looking up, she spoke to him softly.

"I'm sorry. I know you never asked to be born. If I had been more careful, you wouldn't have suffered the wrath of my husband. But a woman loves who she loves, and that can't be helped."

Owen leaned closer to her.

"Do you really _love_ him, though?"

"I loved your father."

Owen cocked his head. The Queen pulled a lyre from her belt and hung it around his neck by a thin, gold chain.

"I wish I could have given you a better life, my son. I hope you can find a way to make the rest of it worth living."

Owen smiled.

"Claire's gonna help me change into a human. Then I'll come back, and we can be a family."

She placed her hand on his cheek.

"We already are."

She noticed that her husband was staring at her, and placed both hands in her lap, gazing down at her empty plate once more.

"I hope you return with the gemstone. I'd like to make up for lost time. If you are unsuccessful, I want you to travel as far as you can manage. I do not wish to see my son slaughtered."

Owen nodded and nudged her with his front horn.

"It'll be okay. I'll get rested up, have a nice breakfast, and be back in a week or so. I guess I should eat dinner first . . ."

The Queen did not reply. Owen wanted to say more, but he would rather not keep Claire waiting, he decided. He followed his new friend as she entered the castle, glancing at his mother one last time before closing the door behind him.

***TSAS***

The banquet hall was grand, and the stone walls made deep echoes as guests chatted and gossiped with cheerful faces. Owen sat in the corner, away from everyone else, but nobody seemed bothered by his presence. He was too busy to be concerned with them anyway, for he had begun to experiment with the lyre his mother had given him. Claire strolled over with a loaded plate of cheese and crackers. Owen looked up at it and quirked a brow.

"Is that all you're eating?"

She smiled.

"I'm a vegetarian, just like you. Seafood night isn't really my thing."

He cocked his head.

"You sure? You'll need your strength for the voyage tomorrow. I've heard some people say that it's okay to eat fish when you're a vegetarian, because fish don't feel nothin'."

"I'm sure it hurts to be caught on a hook . . ." she remarked coldly.

"Yeah, but, like, emotionally, I mean. Fish aren't very smart, and besides, they're creepy-looking."

Claire twirled a lock of hair around her index finger.

"How so?"

"Well, they have those dead eyes and flippity-floppity gills . . . I mean, I ain't got nothing against them, plus I've only seen a few just now, but they have weird faces. I'm in no position to judge, of course."

Claire shrugged.

"I don't know. I think you're okay. Once we get you cleaned up, I'm sure you'll look _and_ feel better."

"I've never had a bath in my entire life, you know," he crunched through a mouthful of crackers.

"Well, don't be too intimidated by it," she laughed, "After dinner, we'll go our separate ways, and once I've dried off, I'll meet you in your room."

"Sounds good. I'm not sure how long I'll take to eat, but I don't want to stuff myself too quickly. I might throw up, since I'm not used to eating this much."

Claire smiled.

"Better pace yourself, then. Why don't you play me a song on your lyre?"

Owen gave her an uncomfortable look.

"I'm not very good yet, but if you really want to hear . . ."

He strummed the lyre with his tail, playing a simple melody. Claire listened with a warm smile. He finished abruptly, then tucked the instrument under his arm.

"I haven't figured out how it ends."

Claire clapped quietly, then took a bite of her cheese.

"I think it sounds lovely."

His ears perked up.

"Really? Do I play like humans?"

Claire snorted, covering her mouth as she spat out cheese.

"Being human doesn't make you musically inclined, you know . . ."

"Yeah, but I'll bet humans play better than monsters."

Claire chuckled.

"Not _all_ of them. Anyway, you have a real gift. I'd like to hear more songs, when you think of some."

He grinned.

"I'd be glad to perform for you. Maybe you can sing along."

She shook her head, oblivious to his humorous tone.

"Trust me, you don't want to hear me sing."

He nudged her with his tail.

"I refuse to believe that you're a poor singer."

"Oh, I'm not. It's just that I'm so good, I'll put you under," she teased, "As soon as I open my mouth, people fall in love with me. I'd rather win them over with charm."

Owen cuffed her with his tail.

"Oh, come on. If you're talented, you should use your gift. There's no shame in being good at stuff."

She looked away wistfully.

"I don't want people to fall in love with me just because of my voice."

He shrugged.

"There are worse things you could fall in love with. Looks, for example. Would you rather attract people by having a pretty face or a pretty voice?"

"Neither. I want them to like all parts of me."

"That shouldn't be hard."

Claire eyed him as she bit into a cracker, and he cleared his throat awkwardly.

"I mean, you're not too bad in the looks department, is all I'm saying."

"You caught me on a good day. I'm not always this pretty."

"Well, between your voice and visage, I'm sure there's lots to love."

She gave a noncommittal hum. Owen bumped her with his front horn.

"Hey. Sing for me."

"Not now."

"But soon?"

"Eventually."

"You have nothing to be afraid of, you know."

She rubbed her arm uncomfortably.

"Well, I hope not. Still, I wish I was normal like all the other girls . . ."

Owen put his front foot on her knee.

"Claire, you wouldn't smack yourself with a frying pan to look homely, right? There's no use in wishing away your blessings. Lots of people would _kill_ to have them."

"I suppose you're right, but that doesn't change the fact that I'm uncomfortable with my . . . abilities."

"Well, okay. You don't have to sing if you don't want to."

She smiled and scratched behind his ear, which twitched joyfully.

"I'll sing for you eventually. I _think_ I will, at least. I've grown rather fond of you."

"That's kind of you to say, especially when I'm so ugly."

She flicked his nose.

"Come on, now. Ugliness is subjective. You look good for whatever you are."

"A dinotaur."

" _Dinotaur_?" she echoed.

"Sure. I'm half dinosaur, I look like a bull-"

"But you're part human."

"No one's considered human until they're _fully_ human. Anything less than a human is a monster."

"Stop calling yourself a monster!" she groaned.

"Alright, alright . . . I guess I'll be human _eventually_ , so I should get used to thinking of myself that way."

She elbowed him playfully.

"I thought we agreed that you're a subspecies of human _already_."

He sighed, contemplating the other people in the hall.

"No, I don't think so. Looking at all of these humans, I can see that I'm _nothing_ like them. I always knew it was a bit of a stretch, but I was hoping I could bend the truth. Now that I know where I came from, I understand that I'm not a human, even if one of my parents was."

After a long silence, Claire rubbed the back of her neck.

"Owen, do you . . . _like_ yourself?"

"I'm ugly."

"Do you _really_ think that, or are you just taking what they say as absolute truth?"

He quirked his beak.

"Well, it _must_ be true. If enough people hold an opinion, it gets accepted as the norm. So I'm ugly, by normal standards."

"But do you _like_ yourself?"

He stared at her for a long time before answering.

". . . I don't know. I've always been this way. All I know for certain is that I want to be human."

"Why?"

"So they'll like me."

"Not so you'll like yourself?"

"I'll be happier when people like me."

" _I_ like you already."

"And that makes me glad, but if you had the opportunity to be just like everyone else, to blend in and not frighten people right off the bat, wouldn't you take it?"

Claire hated to admit it, since her first impulse was to say "no", but she realized how incredibly hypocritical it was of her to encourage Owen to be himself when she altered her body so drastically to fit in. Owen seemed to understand this perfectly.

"You wear lipstick, right? Isn't that kind of changing your appearance?"

"I suppose it is."

"Sorry for wasting the whole tube, by the way- I'll buy you a new one- but what's the difference between making your lips red and removing your tail?"

"Well, you don't have to go on an epic quest to buy makeup, for one thing . . ."

Owen's ears folded.

"You don't have to come with me, if it scares you."

She snickered.

"Relax, I was just making a joke. I know we change ourselves to fit in, but what if we could change the world instead? People's attitudes, I mean. What if they didn't find me any more attractive with lipstick? What if they could learn to tolerate your tail?"

He laughed bitterly.

"That would take a miracle. No one's gonna accept you just because you _tell_ them to."

"What if you show them everything that's good about the way you are?"

He frowned.

"What, like how I make noise when I walk and get my horns stuck in hanging vines? Come on, Claire. There's nothing _good_ about being a monster."

"Well, there must be _something_ . . ."

"Yeah, and I'll bet you save money on shoes when you have no feet, but you don't see people mutilating themselves. You can try to see the bright side of being different, but in the end, it's safer to be normal. No one would want to _be_ like me if they had a choice. There's nothing _admirable_ about what I am."

Claire stared down at her empty plate. Owen's face softened.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get angry-"

"No, I understand. But have you ever considered the possibility that what's good about you is that you're able to just _be_ yourself? Even if nothing excellent comes from your unique features, they're still yours, and isn't there something _wonderful_ about that?"

He shook his head.

"I'll still be myself when I change, only less . . . _bad_."

"Bad from _their_ point of view."

Owen snorted.

"Claire, _look_ at them. Of the hundreds of people in this room, only _one_ offered to be my friend, and that's only because you were stuck with me in the maze."

"What if the others got to know you?"

He snuffed sardonically.

"Again, that's never gonna happen. Can you honestly say that your top priority would be 'getting to know me' if we didn't happen to get stuck in the same confined space?"

Claire smiled weakly.

"Maybe we should drop everyone in a maze together."

Owen stared at her blankly. She stood up, grabbing her plate.

"I'm sorry. I was just trying to cheer you up. I didn't mean to make light of-"

He touched her hand, and though he had no fingers to hold her back, she stood in place.

"Claire. I get it. I appreciate what you're trying to do, and I hate to be argumentative, but I have nothing to lose in this venture. It would be _great_ if the world could accept me for who I am, but I think we both know that that's never gonna happen. People like you are few and far between. It doesn't mean you're _wrong_ \- in fact, I think you're more right than _they_ are- but there's not enough of your type to make my life comfortable as a monster. When I become human, you'll still be my dearest friend, because I'll remember how you _liked_ me, even when I was unlikeable. I wish more people were like you, but I guess you wouldn't be so special if that were the case. It's downright miraculous that someone as perfect as you could learn to be my friend."

"I'm not perfect . . ."

"I think you are. Damn close, anyway. But soon, it won't matter. I'll be human, just like you, and you won't have to worry about their judgement. They won't look down on you for being my friend."

She touched his snout.

"Owen, if they look down on me for _that_ , I don't want to have anything to do with them."

He smiled sadly.

"We've only just met. I don't expect you to give up your place in society for me."

She shook her head fiercely.

"I don't have much of a place to begin with, and besides, you're my best friend. Better than anyone I've ever known. I wouldn't trade you for those snobs."

He smiled and bumped her cheek with his muzzle.

"I gotta say, Claire, you're my favorite human being. I can't wait to be just like you."

He licked her cheek proudly, then trotted away. She touched the wet spot on her face delicately as she watched him leave.

"You _are_ just like me . . ."

***TSAS***

Claire didn't feel very hungry after her conversation with Owen, so she retreated to her guest room to take a bath. As she slipped into the water, she wheeled clumsily on the porcelain, nearly falling over. She grabbed the side of the bath just in time and winced with embarrassment, then lowered herself all the way. She dumped water over her head and scrubbed the dirt off her arms. The maze had really done a number on her. When she reached her lower half, she paused. It was nearly invisible under the suds and bubbles. She bunched them up, trying to conceal herself entirely, then gave up and blew them away. She stared down at herself for a long time. Then, she crawled out of the tub to see how Owen was managing.

When she was dry and dressed, Claire made her way down the hall and knocked on Owen's door. There was a sudden sloshing sound from inside.

"Who is it?"

"It's me. Are you decent?"

"I'm still in the bath, but I'm always naked, so if you want to come in, I don't mind . . ."

Claire rolled her eyes and opened the door. Sure enough, he was sitting in the tub, staring ahead blankly. When she entered the room, he turned and smiled at her pleasantly, waving his tail.

"How was your dinner?"

She quirked a brow.

"Fine . . . Are you _okay_? . . ."

"I'm great!" he chirped, "I think I like this whole ' _bath_ ' thing. Might need some practice, though. How do I know when I'm done?"

"When you're clean? . . ."

"And how long should that take?"

"Not _this_ long, unless you're slow about it . . ."

He bit his beak.

"Oh. I'm sorry. I'll try harder."

He turned back to the wall, face contorted with intense deliberation. Sweat dripped down his forehead. He shook with effort.

"Am I doing better?" he asked through clenched teeth.

Claire laughed.

"Owen, have you just been sitting in the tub like that while I was gone?"

"Yeah. Why?"

She snorted and picked up a bar of soap.

"Well, that's not how you're supposed to do it. You gotta scrub yourself like this. See?"

As she ran the bar over his shoulder, he raised his eyebrows.

"Oh . . . I was wondering what that was for. I thought maybe the dirt was attracted to water like when it rains."

She smiled and handed him the soap.

"Alright. You try."

As he pinched the bar between his front feet, it went shooting backwards, bouncing off his belly before disappearing in the water. He fumbled around for a bit before giving a disappointed moo. Claire offered him a comforting look.

"Here, let _me_ try."

As she dipped her hand into the water, she gasped.

"It's cold . . ."

"Yeah, I've been in here for a while. I don't mind, though. I haven't seen this much water in my entire life!"

She located the bar of soap and began scrubbing his side. Owen lowered his head with embarrassment.

"It'll be nice to have hands."

"They _do_ come in handy. No pun intended."

He pulled his front feet out of the water, rotating them curiously.

"I wonder what it _feels_ like, having hands. It must be wonderful, moving all those fingers around separately. Kinda creepy, but better than feet, anyway."

He sighed, putting his paws back in the water.

"I'll be glad to get rid of my monster-parts. It's really quite awful."

Claire quirked a brow as she moved to his other side.

"I thought you didn't see yourself as a monster."

"I _didn't_ ," he reflected as she lifted his arm to scrub beneath it, "But when they told me what I was, I realized that they were right. I don't know why I didn't see it before. To think I might have gone my entire life without knowing I'm hideous!"

"Well, I wouldn't go so far as to say you're _hideous_ , exactly. I think you might have been happier if they hadn't put these ideas into your head. I mean, if you liked yourself before, what's the difference?"

"I was _wrong_ , that's what! I didn't realize how _abnormal_ my perception was. Plenty of people who are monsters never see it in themselves, or try to deny it altogether. I'm glad somebody set me straight before I embarrassed myself further."

Claire scrubbed his mane, which nearly made the soap disintegrate in its curly depths, like some sort of hair-portal. She massaged the resulting bubbles into the tangled mop on his head, which looked even more chaotic than usual when it was wet and flat. Seeing the knots, she ran her fingers through them gently.

"You didn't embarrass yourself, Owen. I wouldn't have seen you as a monster if they hadn't told me. Aside from the fact that you're not human, there's nothing really that different about you."

He sighed.

"But that's _enough_ , isn't it? A monster is something that's _many_ things, so it's _nothing_. I don't _want_ to be nothing. I want to _know_ what I am and be proud of it. When I'm a man, things will be much easier."

She dumped water over his head.

"You can step out now."

He climbed out of the tub, shaking himself dry. Claire avoided his spray, yelping with surprise. Owen was too dazed to notice.

"I'll be able to pick things up, play musical instruments, bathe myself . . ."

She patted him dry with a towel, then fluffed his hair.

"You can do most of those things already, Owen," she pointed out, "I mean, you can't pick up _everything_ , and you need practice bathing, but I heard you playing that lyre of yours, and you're not half bad."

"But I'm not playing it right. I'm using my tail."

She began to comb his hair from back to front.

"Does it really matter, though? I mean, if you make the same sound . . ."

"It matters. I'm not playing it right."

"The only way to play something wrong is to hit a sour note. If you practice with your tail, you could play just as well as any human."

"Well, I don't have to struggle like an animal anymore, considering I'm about to grow a set of fingers. I won't need to practice when I'm a man."

She smiled with amusement and disbelief.

"Oh, I think you'll need to practice. Humans aren't always born talented. They gotta work for it like everyone else."

She combed his forward-raked hair to one side, then deciding it looked better going straight down his forehead, brushed it back in place. She circled Owen and picked up his tail, working through the knots patiently, pinning the swishing limb between her knees for stability.

"Owen, I think you're getting a little too obsessed with this 'humanity' thing. Humans have problems too, you know. It's not always easy for th- for us."

He nodded.

"I know, I know. But still. Hands."

He stared at his toe-nubs, imagining the fingers that would replace them. Claire crossed the room and came back with a pair of scissors, which snapped him out of his fantasy.

"What are _those_ for?"

"I'm going to give your tail a bit of a trim."

His eyes went wide.

"You're not going to cut it _all_ off, are you?"

"No, of course not. I'm just gonna even it out a bit."

He turned around reluctantly, biting his lower beak.

"Alright. You know, Claire, once I'm human, I can't wait to be your friend."

"We're _already_ friends!" she giggled.

"I know, but it'll be _real_ once I'm a man. I'll play you songs on my lyre and we'll eat food out in the open where people can see us, and nobody will look twice, because we'll both be human. Won't that be wonderful?"

"Mhm."

After a pause, he lifted his head a little.

"Hey, do you think I'll be handsome as a human?"

"I don't know. It's possible."

"I'll be handsomer than a monster, no matter how ugly I am. Still, I'd rather be attractive than not. Maybe I'll get to _choose_ how I look! What do you like in a man?"

She raised her eyebrows, caught off guard by the question.

"Me? Well, I guess I'd want someone I can talk to for hours, who doesn't look down on me-"

"No, I meant physically."

"Oh, well, I guess I'd like someone tall. Maybe a little muscular."

"Do you think my body will get better when I change? Less sickly?"

"Dunno. I wouldn't worry about it. You're fattening up quite nicely. You just need to eat healthy from now on, and I'm sure you'll see some improvement."

She snipped her scissors grandly, then brushed herself off with pride.

"Done."

Owen turned to examine his tail, and contemplating the tidy bush at the end, was utterly amazed. He twirled around, chasing it happily, then stood up and swished it around with confidence, watching it swing from over his shoulder.

"Wow, you really fixed it up good! It's _beautiful_! Oh, I can't thank you enough!"

She smiled.

"Glad you like it. Don't get too used to it, though. You won't have a tail once you're human."

His face fell.

"Oh . . . Right . . ."

She twisted her mouth when she detected disappointment in his voice.

"Maybe you could ask to keep it."

He gave a little jump.

"What? Oh, no, no, no, no, no! I _couldn't_! Humans don't _have_ tails! That would defeat the entire purpose! No, no, no, no, no . . ."

He sighed, rubbing his tail despondently with his front foot.

"I feel bad letting your hard work go to waste. Maybe I could chop it off before turning into a human, so I can keep it forever."

Claire scratched his mane, somewhat horrified, but a little touched.

"Oh, don't hurt yourself for _my_ sake. It was no trouble, really. It's not some work of art."

He let the tuft hover in front of his face.

"It's so elegant, though . . . Maybe I'll memorize what it looks like so that it will last forever in my mind."

She laughed.

"Sounds good to me."

***TSAS***

In the morning, they were treated to hot chocolate. Claire was charmed to see that Owen reacted rather strongly to the beverage, lapping it up like it was liquid gold. He was so enamored with the drink that Claire couldn't help but promise that she'd make him a cup every day when he was human. It was at that moment that they both realized that they intended to stay with each other long after their quest was complete, though they had unconsciously assumed that this was the agreed-upon arrangement beforehand. In truth, Claire had no reason to accompany Owen on his search for humanity, aside from just being his friend. He was flattered that someone cared about him enough to put their life at risk for his sake.

Although Owen was clearly grateful for Claire's loyalty, what he did not yet understand was that she had no qualms nor doubts about this partnership. He constantly apologized for dragging her along, even before they set sail, but she assured him that it was her choice to join him, and she was glad to do it. He would then apologize for his apology. She didn't scold him for his lack of trust, because she was fairly certain that she'd be saying the same things if he didn't blurt them out first. He apologized less and less as the day went on, and soon, they had enough faith in each other's sentiments that they decided to stop questioning their motivations altogether.

They set sail in the afternoon, when the sun was high and the sky was bright. Owen stood at the front of the ship, leaning over the bow as he inhaled the misty brine. He stared out at the horizon and grinned euphorically.

"It's so big, and the air is so fresh! Did you know the world was this _huge_?"

Claire beamed as she tied down the sail.

"I had some idea."

"You ever sailed before?"

"Swam, mostly."

"Not across the _whole_ ocean, though? . . ."

She shrugged.

"I got pretty far."

She stood beside him and leaned on the railing, tucking her elbows beneath her.

"I like the sea. It feels like home."

"Yeah . . . If I had to choose a home, this would be it. It seems infinite, endless . . ."

"Deep."

"How deep?"

"Deep enough. You like seashells?"

"Never seen one."

"Well, here, I'll-"

She prepared to jump overboard, but stopped herself.

"I forgot . . . We should keep moving. Time is of the essence. I'll find you a seashell some other time."

Owen smiled.

"Thanks. I can't wait to spend time with you and not have to worry about what lies ahead. You seem to know a lot about the ocean."

"Because I know what seashells are? . . ." she smirked.

He laughed, tongue flapping.

"No, because it suits you. I think you were born to be a sailor."

Claire snickered.

"Not likely. The spray irritates my skin. Makes my legs itch."

Owen hummed dismissively.

"Well, it was just a thought."

As he went to rummage through their supplies, Claire picked her nails indecisively. She stared out at nothing in particular and took a deep breath.

"My mother . . . used to take me swimming."

Owen resurfaced from the hole with three oranges in his mouth.

"Ith-ad-wight?"

Claire nodded slowly.

"She taught me everything I know. Same goes for my sisters. I miss them."

Owen swallowed the fruit noisily, licking his chops and dipping down for more rations.

"Where did they go?"

"They died."

Owen choked on a pear. He hawked and coughed for a moment, pounding his chest, then cleared his throat.

"I'm so sorry . . ."

"It was a long time ago," Claire said gently, looking down at the waves that slapped the front of their boat, "I think about them every day so I won't forget what they were like. It's nice to remember the happy times we shared . . . But it's hard to forget how it all ended."

Owen bit his lower beak.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

She sighed.

"Maybe. How would I even _start_?"

Owen flicked his tail back and forth uncertainly.

"Well . . . You could tell me how it happened. Them dying, I mean . . . if that's okay with you."

"They were killed by a gang of violent fishermen."

Owen's jaw dropped.

"Who?!"

" _Dangerous_ men. Poachers. I was swimming in the shallow waters one day, and they followed me home. They rounded up my entire family and drove long sticks into them until they died."

"That's awful!" Owen gasped, "Why would they _do_ such a thing?"

Claire shrugged, pinching her hair between two fingers.

"Who knows? Maybe they thought it was brave, or maybe they were just messing around. I don't know if they realized they'd leave a broken-hearted girl behind. I was the only one to escape."

Owen pressed his head against her shoulder. She reached up and grazed her fingers over his mane. His breath was warm, like a horse's.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

She closed her eyes, then turned to face him with a feeble smile.

"It's alright. I used to think it was my fault, but then I realized that I shouldn't blame myself for the cruelty of mankind. It was foolish of me to wander so far from home, but I didn't understand that the world was unforgiving. We live among evil for so long that we begin to blame ourselves for the malevolent deeds of others. But we can't help what we are, and we can't change what others are either. We just have to find a way to keep on living."

Owen rested his chin on her shoulder.

"So all this time, you've been alone . . . like _me_?"

She shook her head.

"Not exactly. Shortly after my mother was killed, I was found by an inventor. My, uh, foot was injured, so I couldn't move very far, but he picked me up and carried me to his cottage, where he healed me and took me under his wing."

"And is he still around?"

Claire shook her head.

"He died trying to pilot his new flying machine. He made the propellers out of wax, you see, so when he tried it out on a sunny day . . . well . . ."

"Gosh, I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It was an accident. I'm glad I at least got to bury him. I swam out to sea to retrieve his body, which was more than I could do for my other family members. I visit his place of rest every now and then. It's warm and bright. Despite what the sun did to him, I know he would have wanted it that way."

Owen looked up at the sun, shielding his eyes with his massive foot.

"Claire, do you ever wonder what the sun _is_?"

"It's the sun . . ." she replied uncertainly.

"I know, but what _is_ it? Is it made of fire or light? How big is it, really? Is it bigger than it seems, but still far away? Could it be a different type of star?"

"The sun, a star?" she laughed, "That's ridiculous!"

He shrugged.

"It's bright, it's in the sky . . ."

She snorted.

"Don't be so simple-minded. It moves differently from the stars."

"Oh."

Seeing his disappointment, she scratched behind his ear, smiling warmly.

"Hey. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe someday they'll discover that the sun is a special star."

Owen hummed doubtfully.

"I appreciate the thought, but you don't have to make me feel better. When I'm wrong, I'm wrong, and that's the end of it."

"Not necessarily. There are plenty of things we believe that aren't true. Sometimes, you have to rethink what appears to be downright obvious."

"Like what?"

"Like the fact that it's undesirable to be more than one thing."

His face fell.

"Claire, whether it's right or wrong, people will always hate hybrids. They want everything one way or the other, none of this 'in-between' nonsense."

"But you're _not_ just in between," she insisted, "You're a living creature. You've been this way your entire life, so why can't you be yourself?"

"It's not about my _body_ , it's about my _identity_. Yes, I've been this way my entire life, but that doesn't make me a _real_ thing. My mother was a human and my father was a dinosaur, so I have to choose one of those two. If I stay this way, I'll be everything and nothing. Just because I exist, it doesn't mean I'm _real_."

Claire frowned.

"Well, regardless of what you turn into, you can't change who your parents were. You can become a human, but your dinosaur father is still out there somewhere, and you'll never be able to escape the fact that you were born as something different."

Owen glared at her, looking uncharacteristically spiteful.

"You're really arrogant, you know that? First, you tell me that it's okay to be myself, but- surprise, surprise- what you _really_ mean is that I'm never going to achieve humanity, so it's pointless to try. You're just like all the others. You don't want me to be human because I started off as a monster, and you don't want to ruin your species by letting some _outsider_ join it."

"That's not true!" Claire protested.

"Sure it is," he snorted, "I'll bet you only came on this voyage to sabotage me. Did the King pay you to do this? What did he offer that was worth destroying my future, or did you just go along with it because you don't want me around either? Are you as ashamed of me as _he_ is? Are you trying to stop me from being like _you_?"

"Owen, I was the one who _organized_ this whole expedition! Don't you _dare_ tell me I'm being duplicitous! What reason could I possibly have to _lie_ to you?"

He snarled.

"Well, if you're not dishonest, you're disloyal. Why would you propose I go searching for this magic gem, then discourage me at every turn? What do you _really_ want, Claire?"

"I want you to be happy!"

"Then let me be human!"

"I _will_ , but how can you be sure that that will make you happy?"

He growled.

"You just don't _get_ it, do you? You can't imagine anything outside of your little bubble, where you live among humans and everything is perfect. What do you know of my suffering? You've never had to hide who you are, because you're a human, and always _have_ been. You don't know what it's like to be shunned for what you are!"

Claire tightened her grip on the ship's railing.

"Owen, shut up. I'm serious."

"Why? Because you know I'm right?"

"Owen, I'm warning you . . ."

"You're spoiled rotten, Claire! You're loved by everyone!"

"No, I'm not! And that's fine talk, coming from you! You only found out where you came from yesterday!"

"Yeah, and do you know how it felt to realize that everything up until that point happened for a reason, that I was _meant_ to be trapped in a maze forever, that everyone who starved to death in that labyrinth _died_ because of _me_?! I thought when I got out of that hell, I'd be free. I thought I'd find my family and live happily ever after, but I never could have imagined that things would get _worse_. You have everything I ever wanted, and you don't seem to realize or care about how lucky you are! Oh, boo-hoo, 'I watched my family die in front of me'! At least you _had_ a family! I'll bet you never appreciated how much they loved you. I know if it had been me, they wouldn't have kept me around long enough to care about me, and they _certainly_ wouldn't forgive me for my mistakes! They probably loved you so much that they wouldn't even _care_ that you got them killed- _Claire, I didn't mean it!_ "

He only realized what he was saying when she turned and ran, and by then, it was too late. He stumbled after her, but she dropped into the storage area and shut the door above her. Owen pawed at the latch, but was unable to open it without hands. He scratched the door and whimpered.

"Claire? . . ."

His ears pricked when he heard her sobbing. They folded back in shame. He stood staring at the hatch for a few seconds more, then limped to the front of the ship and lay on his side, letting his legs hang out limply. He did not move after that, even as the sun began to set over the lonely ocean.

***TSAS***

Claire did not emerge from the storage compartment until nighttime. Slowly, painfully aware of the creaking latch, she lifted the wooden door and peeked out at Owen, who was still lying on his side. After thinking things through, she crawled out of the hole and slid over to his immobile body, then placed an orange by his chin.

"I thought you might be hungry."

He didn't reply. Claire pulled herself backwards with both hands, then leaned against the ship's side and hugged her knees.

"I know you didn't mean the things you said. I understood that I was upsetting you, but I refused to abandon my moral high ground. I'm such a hypocrite . . ."

"No."

Owen didn't move as he spoke, nor did his eyes break away from their steady, vacant gaze.

"You were just trying to make me feel better. And you were right. Even if I was human, people would still know that I was born a monster."

Claire gulped and reached out to stroke his mane.

"We don't have to tell them. They don't have to know."

Owen sighed and closed his eyes.

"It's alright. I've decided to turn back. I don't deserve to be human after the things I said . . ."

She held his foot back as he reached for the wheel.

"You made a mistake. That's the most human thing there is."

He grimaced.

"You don't have to make me feel better. I know why they call me a monster, now. What's the point of changing if I'm still ugly inside?"

"You're _not_ ugly inside. You're kinder than a lot of humans, I'll tell you _that_ much . . ."

He didn't answer. Claire bit her lip, then leaned against his belly, using him as a pillow. After a minute or so of absolute silence, she realized that she was looking at the stars, and couldn't help but smile.

"Owen, look . . . Tiny suns . . ."

He didn't reply, but his breath came out in a slow, wispy noise. She pointed to a cluster of white specks.

"There's the big bear, the little bear . . . no moderately-sized bears, though. That one's Corona Borealis, and that's the Pleiades . . . and there's Taurus, the bull. He kind of looks like you."

Owen snorted gently. Claire smiled and rubbed his horn.

"They say you can only see half of him because he's swimming in the sea. Do you think you'll ever swim someday?"

"I don't know if I can. I don't think I'm built for swimming."

"Well, neither is a bull, but they manage, just the same . . ."

"I'm not a bull. Hybrids can't swim."

Claire clicked her tongue.

"See, that's not true at all, and I can prove it. See that banana-looking constellation up there? That's Capricorn, the goat. He has the tail of a fish. If _that's_ not a hybrid, I don't know what _is_."

"So he's a mermaid-goat."

"Sure. And I'll bet he swims really well."

Owen gave a deep rumble and rolled over a little. Claire ran her fingers through his mop of hair, resting her cheek on his scales.

"Owen, if you can't swim, I'll teach you how. And if you're not able to do it as a hybrid, I'll wait until you're human."

Owen grumbled.

"I told you, I'm not changing. I don't deserve it."

"Everyone deserves a chance to be accepted, and if you think that being human is the only way to make that happen, I'll do whatever I can to make it a reality."

Owen lifted his head and turned to face her, stars gleaming in his eyes.

"Even after what I said? . . ."

Claire smiled and ruffled his hair.

"Friends fight. Doesn't mean they stop being friends, or that they always mean what they say. I think we were _both_ monsters today, but I promise to forgive you for what you said, if you can forgive me in return."

"Done."

Claire laughed and hugged his snout.

"Good. Just for the record, I'm sorry if I gave the impression that I don't think your pain is real. I know how hard it is to be an outcast, and I don't blame you for wanting to be accepted. It just hurts my heart that you can't be loved from the start."

"Well, to be fair, you _did_ say that you like me just the way I am, and I shouldn't have made this all about other people. Believe me, I'm _eternally_ grateful that you decided to be my friend. It means more than I can ever say."

She kissed his cheek.

"You don't have to say anything. I can feel it. Now, are we still on course?"

"I didn't touch anything."

"Then we should be. Let's get some rest while the water's calm. We have another long day ahead of us tomorrow."

***TSAS***

They slept right there on the deck, covered with their spare sail and supported by bags of grain. Claire had planned to stop at one of the nearby islands at sundown, but their little argument had made it so that that plan was out of the question. In any case, it wasn't so bad, sleeping under the stars. Beneath their makeshift blanket, Owen held Claire against his chest like a stuffed animal. Often, his dreams would be interrupted by nocturnal terror. Claire could tell that he was having nightmares when his face scrunched up, and when he started muttering under his breath. She stroked his leg calmly when this happened, and he would go back to his peaceful slumber without protest.

Once, around two in the morning, Owen woke up screaming, and Claire dove across the ship with a terrified yelp. When she realized what had happened, she turned to a very shaky Owen, who was spooked silly. She approached him as he mumbled indistinct words under his breath, knees knocking. When she touched his neck, he made a choking noise.

"I was back in the maze. The monster was coming, and you were stuck in the vines-"

"It's okay, Owen. It was just a dream."

"No, you don't understand! I saw the monster, and it had my face. It ate you up, vines and all . . . you _died_."

Tears trickled down his cheeks. Claire rocked his head back and forth.

"I'm okay, Owen. The nightmare is over. It's not real."

He took a shaky breath.

"I'll be glad when I'm human. I'll be able to pick up the knife and defend you from monsters."

"I can handle myself, Owen. Like I said, it was just a dream. I won't let myself get eaten."

He didn't seem to be paying attention to her. With distant eyes, he knelt down, lowering his rump to the ground slowly, and spoke to himself.

"I'll save you just like a hero would. I'll slay the monster for good. Then we'll live happily ever after."

"Owen . . ."

"Happily ever after."

He rolled over and closed his eyes, giving a drowsy moo. Claire lifted his arm and draped it over her shoulder, but after sitting quietly for a minute or two, she realized that she wouldn't be able to get back to sleep until she was sure that Owen was okay.

"You know that heroes don't have to be human, right? . . ."

No reply.

"Owen? . . ."

He was fast asleep. Claire sighed and closed her eyes. Owen's troubled sleep seemed to rub off on her, because she dreamed about the day she'd lost her family. Maybe talking about it so much had had an effect on her subconscious. She woke with their screams ringing in her head, and realized that the boat was sailing through mist. She could see the silhouette of a mountain through the vapor. Owen was already awake, and was staring at the foggy sentinel with wonderment.

"I think we've arrived."

They anchored the boat and began their climb, searching for the monster who told riddles. It was hard to say how long they wandered about, since the sky was completely grey, but after what felt like hours, they heard an unnerving skittering sound. As Owen turned to ask Claire if she had seen anything, a green and yellow creature with a neon sail jumped up on a nearby rock and sneered at them with a maw full of pointed teeth.

"Who dares disturb me?"

Owen gulped.

"Um, well, I'm Owen, and this is Claire . . ."

"You must answer my riddle. If you fail to produce a solution, I will devour you and pick your bones clean."

Owen blinked.

"So serious . . ."

The creature hissed.

"Here is my riddle: what walks on four legs in the morning, two in the afternoon, and three in the evening?"

Owen's face showed a mixture of relief and excitement.

"That's easy. A hippo."

The creature blinked.

"Um . . . What?"

"A hippo. That's the answer."

"No, it's not . . ."

"Sure it is. Hippos walk on four feet, then when they get hunted, two get chopped off, leaving two more."

"But what about the part where it's three-legged?" Claire asked.

"Easy. The hippo got an erection."

The monster slapped her face.

"That's not the right answer."

"Why not? It's possible, ain't it?"

"Well- maybe- but- Okay, let's try this again," she hissed, "I'll ask a simpler riddle, and if you can't guess it, you will be devoured. What gets wetter the more it dries?"

"A lady's crotch."

The monster's eyes went wide.

"The hell? . . ."

Claire touched his shoulder.

"Owen, that's not right . . ."

He groaned.

"Well, how am _I_ supposed to know what happens to lady-parts?! That's an unfair question."

The monster rubbed the space between her eyes and held up her free paw.

"Okay, okay. Just answer me this one last thing: why is a raven like a writing desk?"

"Because you're not supposed to pee on them."

The monster screeched and tore at her eyes.

"NO! You vile, nasty animal! That's NOT the right answer! You are _such_ a pain in the ass! I can't stand it any longer!"

She flung herself off the mountain. Owen watched her fall, then flinched as she made an impact. He licked his lips and turned to Claire.

"Well, I don't think I was _too_ far off, but she could have at least given me a hint . . ."

Claire climbed up on the monster's rock and pulled a shining gem from the boulder, grunting as the surrounding dirt crumbled away. When she held it out for Owen, it sparkled in his eyes. He was so enraptured by the sight of the stone that Claire thought he might start drooling. Without blinking, he leaned closer to her hand and grinned.

"Inside that shiny rock is my humanity. It's so close, I can taste it."

"Don't eat the gem."

He snapped out of his reverie.

"I'm not _going_ to! Geez! I'm just saying that I won't have to be a monster for much longer."

He was puzzled to detect a kind of sadness in her smile.

"Owen, I have to say, I don't consider you a monster. You're the kindest, most sincere person I've ever met."

He smiled and pressed his snout into her free hand.

"Well, soon I'll have a body to match. I've been looking forward to this for _so_ long . . ."

"We only met yesterday."

"I've been looking forward to this _so_ much . . ."

She rolled her eyes, smiling to herself.

"I know, I know. Just remember that being human is more than just looking like one."

He nodded, tongue hanging out of his beak.

"Once I've changed, it'll be official, though. People will see me differently. They'll _like_ me."

"I _already_ like you."

"But you'll like me more as a human, right?"

When Claire didn't answer right away, Owen's eyes went wide.

"You'll like me _less_? . . ."

"No, of course not. It doesn't matter _what_ you are. I'd like you in _any_ shape."

Owen breathed a sigh of relief.

"Good. Even if it's all the same to you, being human makes things a lot easier. By the way, there's something I want to ask you."

"Yes?"

"Not now. When I'm human."

"Is it a secret?"

"Not exactly, but I want everything to be _perfect_ when I tell you."

"Tell or ask?"

"Both. And I want to do it as soon as possible. I'm not quite sure how this gem works, though. I guess touching it isn't enough. We'd better ask the King. Let's get going. I'm so excited, I can hardly breathe!"

***TSAS***

They set sail once more, securing the gem in three bags, just in case one happened to snag or rip. This was, of course, an overly-intense precaution, but Owen refused to let anything happen to his precious rock, going so far as to hold it tightly against his chest at all times, even when he slept. Claire watched him in his slumbery state, and when she reached forward to remove the three-layered bag to make room for herself, he shifted unconsciously and grumbled, batting her gently with his tail. She backed away sadly, then sat in the corner of the boat, alone. He didn't move after that, and she wondered if he was dreaming about being human. When a smile crossed his face, she knew that it must be the case. And he was whispering her name. It was a little endearing, she had to admit.

More than a little.

Although she maintained that he was putting too much emphasis on this whole "humanity" thing, she was willing to help him along as he pulled closer to his dream, because when he was happy, so was she.

They returned to the island with the magic gem, which Owen carried proudly in his beak, holding his head high and swishing his tail as he trotted down the street like an award-winning stallion. He was so confident, in fact, that Claire was sure he must feel like a human already.

The King was playing croquet in his courtyard, surrounded by men of noble birth, whom Owen would surely be joining in days to come. He bounded up to his not-quite-father and placed the gem at his feet, sitting back on his haunches and spreading his arms proudly.

"I'm ready to change!"

The King stared at his adoptive son with disbelief, then looked down at the gem. His mouth contorted into an expression of horror. He dropped his croquet mallet, hands trembling.

"You . . . I didn't think you'd make it back."

Owen wagged his tail.

"It wasn't easy, but we did it. I have Claire to thank for that."

He turned and gave her a smile over his shoulder, which she returned. The King continued to stare at the gem.

"No, you don't understand. I expected you to _die_. I never thought . . . I mean . . ."

Owen batted his eyes.

"Well, I made it back, so you can change me now."

The King gulped.

"I . . . can't."

Owen batted his eyes again.

"Sure, you can. Just use the gem."

He pushed it forward gingerly with his foot. The King stepped back, face twitching all over.

"It won't work."

"Why not? This is the gem from the monster on the mountain. That's all we needed, right?"

"I can't do it."

"Please, this is all I've ever wanted. I'll find a way to repay you-"

"I MADE IT ALL UP!"

Owen went rigid, then opened his mouth like a beached fish that didn't quite have the strength to draw another breath.

"You . . . what? . . ."

"I made it all up," the King admitted, "I thought you would give up or die before finding the gem. You weren't supposed to actually bring it back. It has no magic powers. All it's good for is money."

Owen's beak began to quiver.

"You . . . You can _try_ , though, right? It must have a _little_ magic in it, at least . . ."

Claire stepped forward and touched his shoulder.

"Owen . . ."

He gave a distressed low.

"There _has_ to be a way! I can't just stay a _monster_! I'm supposed to be _human_!"

The King sighed.

"I'm sorry you had to find out this way. I wish you hadn't had the guts to go out and do what I told you."

Claire growled.

"You should be ashamed of yourself! You raised his hopes!"

"I know. But the simple fact is that he can't change."

Owen's legs began to shake.

"No . . ."

Claire knelt in front of him swiftly.

"Owen, listen. This isn't the end of the world. We can find a way through this."

He tossed his head, clearly on the verge of tears.

"No! . . ."

She stroked his snout.

"Owen, it's going to be okay. It's going to be-"

He broke away and ran into a field of wheat, sobbing all the way. Claire pursued him. He left a trail through the stalks as he tramped forward, wailing noisily. By the time Claire caught up with him, he was sitting on a hill beneath a tree, and had been stationed there for quite some time, it seemed. He was no longer making any noise, except a few quiet breaths, but he was no less upset. His front feet covered his face, and he shook like a leaf. Claire jogged up the hill and placed her hand on his back, burying her fingers deep in his mane.

"Owen . . ."

He didn't reply. She rubbed his shoulder firmly.

"Owen, I'm sorry. I know how much it meant to you."

He sniffled, still breathing at an accelerated rate.

"It- it meant _everything_ to me. Now I- now I have- _nothing_. I'm- I'm- I'm- _no one_ again. I was s-so gullible to think I could be anything m-more."

Claire wrapped her arms around his neck, squeezing him against her chest as tightly as possible without being aggressive.

"Owen, you're not gullible, and you're certainly not 'no one'. You're the one who crossed the fiercest sea. You're the one who defeated the monster who tells riddles. You're my best friend. That's a whole lot more than a no one."

He shook his head.

"None of that matters now. I'm- I'm not human, and I'm _never_ going to be human. I thought I could become someone- someone worthy of . . . _things_ . . . but I'm just a monster. I should have stayed in that awful maze."

Claire closed her eyes and pressed her cheek against his hair, feeling her own eyes pricking with tears.

"Don't say that, Owen! I wouldn't even _be_ here if it weren't for you!"

"You could have escaped on your own."

"But I'd have no _reason_ to. Why return to a world where I have no friends? I would have given up without your help."

He sighed.

"I don't think so. You're better than that. Anyway, you shouldn't _be_ here. Don't forget you're talking to a monster."

"Owen!"

"Well, it's true."

She frowned.

"Owen, I've been talking to you for hours!"

"Yeah, but I thought I could be human back then. Now we know that I'll be staying this way forever, so it's best if we split up to avoid further embarrassment. All this time, you've been talking to a monster, plain and simple, and just because you thought I was a person, it didn't make it true or right."

Claire gave him a sympathetic look.

"Owen, don't do this to yourself. You're more than what they see."

He exhaled and lay on his side.

"You can continue to believe that, but that doesn't change anything. Especially not ME."

Claire leaned against his side, staring up at the setting sun. When his tail flapped up and down in front of her, she picked it up tenderly and examined the silky tip with a nostalgic smile.

"Remember how happy you were when I trimmed your tail?"

"Yeah. So?"

"Now you get to keep it."

"Goody," he muttered sardonically.

Claire reached over and flicked his nose.

"And do you remember when you drank three cups of hot chocolate?"

"Yeah. I'm big. What's your point?"

"Well, I found it endearing."

"And?"

" _And_ I wouldn't want you any other way, Owen. The way you are right now is . . . well, it's _you_. I _like_ you. I don't _want_ you to change. People can say that you're a monster all they want, but I know for certain that it's not true. You're everything I wanted and more."

Owen snorted.

"But it's still not enough."

Claire cocked her head.

"Enough for what?"

Owen fidgeted a little.

"Nothing."

Claire sat up, interested.

"Owen, what did you mean by that? What are you saying?"

"Nothing. Drop it."

Claire crawled over to his face, then held his cheeks in her hands. He gawped up at her with big eyes, though she was bunching up his face quite insistently.

"Owen, what's on your mind?"

"I told you, it's nothing. It doesn't matter now. You're a human, and I'm a monster, so we can't be- friends."

"We can be friends."

"Well, alright. We can be friends."

"But did you want to be _more_? . . ."

Silence. Owen refused to meet her gaze.

"I . . . I don't think it's a matter of what I _want_ . . ."

"Why not?"

"You know why."

"But _do_ you?"

"Do I what?"

Claire clicked her tongue impatiently and let his face slip from her hands.

"Do you want a relationship?"

He looked into her eyes, then tossed his head.

"Come on, Claire. I've had enough humiliation for today. Just let it go, alright?"

"Well, okay, but you should know that I love you, too."

His eyes went wide, and his tail snapped back and forth like an electrified snake.

"You . . . You love me?"

"Of course I do," she laughed, "Isn't it obvious?"

His tail started wagging, but he forced himself to remember why their love was impossible.

"Oh, Claire. It will never work. Maybe if I was human . . ."

She bit her lip and hugged her knees, rocking back and forth nervously.

"Owen, I haven't been entirely honest with you."

"You haven't?"

"I haven't. And I hate myself for it. I'm not brave like you are. I can't bare my heart to people, because until now, I've never trusted anyone enough to let them into my life."

Owen batted his eyes.

"I'm not sure I understand . . ."

She lifted his chin with her finger.

"Owen, if I show you something, do you promise to keep it a secret, even if it repulses you?"

He narrowed his eyes.

"Do you have warts or something?"

She slapped her forehead.

"Owen, it's a little more severe than that. I need you to promise me that you won't tell a soul, or I won't be safe for as long as I live."

He nodded sharply.

"If it's a matter of safety, I won't tell anyone, but you should know that nothing you show me could ever be enough to turn me against you. Not even warts."

She smiled.

"Owen, I feel awful for keeping this a secret. I came close to telling you on several occasions, but I stopped myself every time. I've trained my heart to be untrusting of other people, even people who deserve my complete faith . . . like you."

He gave a lopsided grin.

"Well, I'm really glad you feel that way about me, but I'm still not sure what you're getting at."

Claire took a deep breath.

"Owen, I love you, and I'd like us to be together, but first, you'll have to accept _me_."

"Done."

"No, Owen. I have to show you the thing first."

"Oh. Well, it can't be worse than being a big, hairy monster, right?"

She gave an uncertain whimper. Owen cocked his head.

"You're not secretly a bear in a human-skin jumpsuit, are you?"

Claire cuffed his shoulder.

"Owen!"

"Well, just _tell_ me already!"

She stood up.

"Alright. Follow me."

She led him down the opposite side of the hill, away from the castle. They crossed a yellow prairie as the sky turned orange, then arrived at a rocky cliff, which led to a beach. Owen took in the smell of brine, letting himself slip back into the memory of their journey across the sea. Claire touched his cheek to get his attention, then nodded to the crashing waves.

They climbed down the rocks carefully, then stepped across the sand, which was still warm from the afternoon sun. Before reaching the water, Claire paused.

"Owen, no matter how this turns out, I just want you to know that I truly do love you, and I'm sorry I wasn't honest with you from the start."

And with that, she dove into the water, disappearing for a few seconds before resurfacing with wet hair. Owen watched with puzzlement as she struggled to crawl back to shore. It didn't take long to figure out why. He thought it was a trick of the light, at first, but he noticed something flickering behind her as the waves subsided. When she got closer to shore, he heard a loud flapping sound, and as a particularly large wave pushed her onto the wet sand, he glimpsed a pair of flippers trailing behind her. She lifted them over her head and smiled shyly.

"Ta-dah . . ."

Owen blinked.

"Oh. You're a mermaid."

"I _am_ . . ." she said, trying hard not to be awkward . . . and failing miserably.

Owen walked up to her slowly, examining the area where her skin became scales. She curled her tail self-consciously, but he reached out and held her fins in his front feet, playing with them inquisitively. When he was done, he circled her again and plopped his rump in the sand.

"Well, all things considered, I don't think there's anything particularly bad about this setup . . ."

Claire squealed with joy and flung herself into his arms unexpectedly, folding her tail over his shoulder and wrapping her arms around his neck.

"I love you, I love you, I love you!"

He grinned dizzily and nuzzled her cheek.

"You know, I think I understand what you mean when you say I'm not a monster. Being half and half isn't enough to warrant that kind of label, considering you're half fish. No one would _dare_ call _you_ a monster."

Claire kissed his nose.

"They have, but I think they're wrong about both of us. Maybe we're just a new breed of monster. The _good_ kind."

Owen laughed and carried her into the sea, letting her float above his arms.

"Well, I don't know about _me_ , but _you're_ certainly more attractive than the average hybrid."

She grinned, then slapped his face with her fins playfully before darting around him in circles. He splashed about noisily as he began his pursuit, and when he caught her, he held her in place, tickling her with his tail. Her fish flipper flapped back and forth rapidly as she laughed.

"Stop it! Stop it! I surrender! Let me go!"

Owen set her free with a smile. She swam around him, then hopped onto his back, crossing her arms over his chest.

"What do you say we swim to someplace else?"

"Like where?"

"Anywhere that's far away from this dump."

Owen smiled.

"This 'dump' could have been my kingdom. Aren't you upset that you lost your chance to marry a Prince?"

Claire shrugged.

"I'm not too worried about it. There are other ways to get rich."

She pulled the non-magic gem from her bodice.

"I'll bet you didn't know that mermaids make really good thieves."

Owen grinned.

"I have lots to learn. But I'm sure we can make this work."

She pulled his face forward and kissed him messily. As they parted, he licked his beak, which Claire grazed gently with her index finger.

"Why don't we put this rock to good use and buy an island all to ourselves?"

Owen licked her cheek.

"Sounds good to me."

They swam across the sea, taking turns carrying each other, until they arrived at a quaint little island not too far from Fiji. As it turned out, they didn't need to use the gem to purchase their land, since it seemed to be undiscovered. They built a seaside cottage and a charming sailboat, which they used to travel to the mainland and buy a nearly infinite supply of hot chocolate.

They spent the rest of their days sunbathing and swimming, and talking for hours on end. In the evenings, Owen played his lyre while Claire sang along, and he told her that she had the most beautiful voice in the world. She didn't mind the compliment, seeing how he was so much in love with her that her best feature was of little significance to him. They enjoyed their time together, and never grew lonely for a second, especially when Owen made the happy mistake of fertilizing Claire's entire egg pool.

They lived happily ever after with their eight hundred and twenty-three children.


End file.
